History is Women Following Behind with a Bucket
by HannahPelham
Summary: Edith Crawley is a historian, who goes to stay at Brancaster to research her new book. There, she meets Bertie Pelham, and her life changes. Modern AU.
1. ferhþlufu

_ferhþlufu - heartfelt love (Old English)_

"Are you sure you don't mind, Mr Pelham?" Edith asked the man walking beside her.

"Would I have offered if I minded, Miss Crawley?" Bertie Pelham replied. He had walked down the drive of Brancaster Castle to meet the new arrival, a pre-norman conquest historian called Edith Crawley, in Northumberland to do some research on the Viking invasion of Northern England and the subsequent Danelaw. It all flew over Bertie's head but if he could help out a fellow human then it would be worth it.

"If I'm staying with you, you might as well call me Edith" She said, walking up the front steps, carrying two of her suitcases. Bertie had been carrying the third since the taxi had dropped her off at the bottom of the drive.

"In that case, no more Mr Pelham. Do call me Bertie" he replied, opening the huge front door with his spare hand. Edith gasped as she walked through the door.

"How did you end up with an amazing place like this?" Edith asked, putting her suitcases down and turning around slowly, trying to take in her location.

"Old family pile. Ended up with me after my third cousin died" Bertie replied, beginning to walk up the grand staircase.

"Did you get anything else?" Edith quiered as she picked up her suitcases and walked over to where he was standing, halfway up the stairs.

"I'm also the Marquess of Hexham but that's not particularly important" He commented. Edith stopped in her tracks.

"Marquess?"

"Yes, but I try not to think about it. I'm just Bertie" He almost pleaded, looking at Edith.

"Well then, just Bertie, where's my bedroom?" she replied, running up the stairs as fast as she could with her two heavy suitcases. Bertie quickly followed, mesmerised by the beautiful young historian running up his stairs.

Edith followed Bertie as he led her to her room.

"You're in the family wing" Bertie said as he turned yet another corner, "it's the most homely and the one with the en-suite and a kitchen for us to use"

They turned one final corner and Bertie opened a door, then another inner door, before a beautiful bedroom was revealed. Edith placed her two suitcases down with the one Bertie had brought up and looked around the room. The walls still had their original Edwardian wallpaper, a dressing table and mirror sat in between two huge windows overlooking Brancaster Castle's beautiful grounds, and a four-poster bed dominated the rest of the room, the sheets and hangings complimenting the wallpaper. A door with opaque glass led to the en-suite, and there was a small package of luxury soaps on the dressing table waiting for her.

"Bertie, really, this is too much. You must let me pay you someth-" Edith started.

"Nonsense" Bertie interrupted, "It'll be nice to have some company in a house as old and empty as this one, and if you're staying here with me then you deserve the best"

Edith walked over and stared out of one of the windows. She couldn't quite believe she was actually here. As part of her research into the Viking occupation of Anglo-Saxon Britain, she was visiting collections and other historians in Northumberland, where the initial invasions took place. She wanted to see as many locations as she could first hand. She'd asked around for somewhere to stay, and a historian friend of hers, Laura Edmunds, had arranged for her to stay at Brancaster.

"You can work wherever you like, really. The library does have some local history books which may prove useful, and there's a desk in there if you want it. I'll be out and about but you have my phone number if you need anything" Bertie said, standing a few paces back. He looked at Edith intensely. She was the complete opposite of what he'd expected, and now he couldn't take her eyes off her. The evening sun made her hair almost glow. She looked like an angel, framed by the window.

"Thank you again, Bertie. I can't think how to thank you...I may have to dedicate my book to you" Edith replied, turning around. She leant against the window sill and looked at Bertie. She couldn't really believe this man was a Marquess. He seemed so unassuming, so sweet, so gentle, and so young. She always imagined aristocratic men as perpetually old and perpetually scowling. Bertie was none of those things. He was young, seemingly lively, and Edith thought he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

"I wouldn't say no" Bertie laughed, smiling properly for the first time since Edith had arrived. She rather thought it lit up the room "Anyway, I'll let you get settled in. The little kitchen and sitting room I use is just down the hall, you can't miss it"

Bertie left the room, closing both inner and outer door behind him, and Edith let out a deep breath. Any worries about staying with somebody thoroughly disagreeable were long gone. She pulled her phone from her back pocket, and snapped a picture to send to her family of the view. She unpacked her things, hanging her clothes in the antique wardrobe. She couldn't believe such homes still existed in the 21st Century, and she felt unbelievably lucky to be staying in one such home. It seemed strange to Edith that it did feel like a home rather than a stately home that one visits on holiday with one's parents as a youngster.

"Perhaps it's Bertie" She mused quietly to herself as she sat down on the bed, sinking into the feather mattress "Perhaps it's a young man like him that gives it life"

Edith knew very little about Brancaster Castle, it's history, the stories it had to tell, the secrets buried deep within it's walls, but she was desperate to find out. She knew Bertie would be the place to start, of course, so she made her way down the corridor to the kitchenette he had mentioned. She opened the door gingerly.

"Come in - fancy a cuppa?" Bertie asked as she walked in, gesturing to the sofa on the other side of the room.

"Please, a splash of milk and no sugar" Edith replied as she got herself comfy, sinking into the seat, tucking her feet underneath her. Bertie quickly poured the tea and handed her a mug, sitting down next to her.

"Bedroom alright?" He asked, taking a sip of tea. Edith laughed.

"In a gorgeous room like that? What do you think, Bertie?" She replied. Bertie rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Alright, stupid question, let me rephrase - settled in okay?"

"Perfectly, thank you" Edith replied, putting her mug down on the coffee table, "What do you know of the history of Brancaster?"

"Only what's been passed down to me from my father, I was only the third cousin of the last Marquess, so we just lived on the estate" Bertie explained.

"What did your father tell you?"

"Only that the castle was built around 1100, really" Bertie replied, "he died when I was a boy"

Edith's eyes widened as she reached out to place a comforting hand on Bertie's forearm.

"Gosh I'm so sorry, I wouldn't have pushed the subject if I'd have known" She said quickly, worried she'd put her foot in it without having been there five minutes.

"Don't apologise, it was a long time ago and I don't remember him all that much, I'd love to know more about the old girl if you found anything in the course of your research, though if I'm not mistaken your time period is earlier than the castle's construction?" He asked. He'd always been interested in history, but was much better with more recent time periods than pre-conquest like Edith.

"Yes, the bit I'm writing a book on is sort of 800-1100 really, though nothing major really happened after the Norman Conquest, but if I find anything I'll let you know - I'd be interested myself. Can you imagine the things these walls have seen?" She explained. She was surprised Bertie was so interested in what she was doing. Normally she found people didn't care if it was before the Norman Conquest, because they already knew a thing or two about that. The Vikings interested small children, not academics, she was told by a particularly mean university student, and she'd made it her mission to make that part of British history accessible to everybody.

"I expect some of it doesn't bear thinking about" Bertie mused, his brain conjuring up images of burning arrows and vats of burning hot oil poured from over the battlements.

"I imagine not, everything was rather gruesome until about 1700, I expect the grounds outside the defensive walls are littered with skeletons of dead invaders. This far up the country I expect they're Celts and Picts and Scots" Edith replied casually, dipping a custard cream into her tea. Bertie's eyes widened, and he glanced out of the window quickly, before taking a steadying sip of tea. He hoped Edith hadn't seen it, but she had, and she'd thought it was adorable.

"What do you do with your days, Bertie?" Edith asked. She was interested to know what a Marquess did in this day and age.

"Well, I look after the estate. It's mainly paperwork at this point, so not all that much if I can help it" He replied. He didn't sound particularly enthusiastic.

"If you ever get a free moment, you could research the history of the castle and the estate - I'm sure some of those local history books you mentioned are in the library will help you" Edith encouraged. Not only would it get Bertie more involved with the fortress he called home, it meant he'd spend more time with her.

"As it happens I don't have all that much on at the moment, and it is a very inviting idea" Bertie said, drinking the last of his tea.

"It's a deal then - I research before the Norman Conquest, and you after it" Edith replied, holding out a hand for Bertie to shake. He took it, and both felt a bolt of electricity as they properly touched for the first time. Edith quickly realised that this might end up being more than just a research trip.

The next morning, Bertie found Edith working away in the library at an ungodly hour. He'd woken early and had made his way to the library to watch the sunrise through the patio doors, and he'd been very surprised to find some lamps on and Edith sat hunched over the desk.

"Morning Edith, have you been to bed yet?" He asked as he walked in, putting his tray of tea things down and thanking his lucky stars he picked up two mugs instead of one.

"I did for a bit, I woke up about half an hour ago and my brain got going, I had to look something up otherwise it was going to bother me. What are you doing up, anyway? Early riser?" Edith replied, moving from the desk to the sofa where Bertie had sat. She pulled her dressing gown around her a little bit tighter, feeling the chill of the large room now she'd stopped working for a moment.

"Woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep, thought I'd watch the sunrise. You don't mind, do you?" Bertie said, pouring a cup of tea for each of them.

"It's your house, Bertie" Edith said as she took her mug of tea from the table, "as long as you don't mind me disturbing your peace?"

"Don't be silly, it's nice to have the company" Bertie replied, settling back into the cushions. They looked out of the glass doors just as the sun was starting to rise. It was a particularly beautiful morning. They drank their tea quietly, occasionally filling up their mugs from the polka dot teapot on the coffee table. By the time the sun had risen, Edith and Bertie were leaning on each other ever so slightly. Edith's dressing gown had come apart slightly as she'd subconsciously moved, letting her silk nightie peek out of the top. Bertie's had also suffered a similar fate, and Edith caught the quickest glimpse of his bare chest.

They weren't disturbed until Edith received a text message, the sound from her phone scaring the life out of both of them. Edith checked it and sighed.

"What?" Bertie asked as he tightened the knot of his dressing gown.

"My sister, Mary" Edith replied, putting her phone back in her pocket, "We don't exactly get on"

Bertie nodded, and pushed it no further. If the sisters really didn't get on, he didn't fancy opening that can of worms quite yet. Edith clearly didn't want to talk about it, and he didn't want to upset her. He liked her a lot, in fact he'd already decided she was one of the best people he'd ever had the fortune to meet, so he definitely didn't want to balls it up.

Edith knew her family was unusual, full of secrets and a deep-rooted loathing between her and her sister Mary, made especially worse by the untimely death of their youngest sister, Sybil. Bertie hadn't said much about his family, but it seemed like they probably had some secrets too.

The sun started to shine through the windows, letting Edith get a proper glimpse at Brancaster's immense library for the first time.

"Do you like it?" Bertie asked, piling the tea things back onto the tray.

"I feel like I'm in Beauty and the Beast, it's astonishing" She replied, turning to look at him. Bertie realised he didn't need the sun to see the library - Edith's smile lit up the whole room.

The pair of them made their way back upstairs, through the winding halls to the family wing.

"I'll make breakfast whilst you get dressed - fancy anything in particular?" Bertie asked as they neared Edith's bedroom. Edith noticed the name on the door opposite - _Herbert Pelham. _

"Whatever you're having, I'm not a vegetarian or anything" she replied as she opened her door and slipped into her room. Bertie slipped into his and dressed quickly, before he found himself making scrambled eggs on toast for the pair of them. Soon, he was joined by Edith, with a book tucked under her arm.

"My favourite, thank you Bertie" Edith said as she sat down at the small pine table. The kitchen was obviously designed with only one or two people in mind, and it made it feel very homely.

"You're welcome Edith, it was no trouble. What are you reading?" Bertie replied, placing the two plates down on the old table.

"Beowulf" She said as she handed Bertie the book, "Brushing up on my Old English". Bertie looked at the book for a moment, before handing it back. He'd heard of Beowulf, of course, but he didn't imagine it was the sort of thing people read for fun, but then again, Edith wasn't just anybody.

Bertie didn't see Edith until lunchtime. She was in the library, beavering away at her work, which is what she went to Brancaster to do, whilst he sat in his office down the hall and looked over the estates accounts. It was a warm day, and both he and Edith had opened the doors to the patio. As the morning drew on, Bertie began to hear Edith whistling and humming as she got on with her work. By lunchtime, she'd plugged her phone into the hi-fi system the previous Marquess had installed in the library, and was singing along to her favourite songs. He smiled as he heard her bump into a table whilst dancing to 'The Embassy Waltz' from My Fair Lady, and as she got her revolution on whilst singing 'Do You Hear the People Sing?' from Les Miserables. When he'd received an email from Laura Edmunds saying an academic was coming to stay with him, he'd expected a stuffy old woman. Edith was nothing of the sort, something of a free spirit, apparently not a care in the world, and a beautiful singer to boot. Bertie could hardly help but fall under her spell.

After lunch, the showtunes ended, and the punk began. Bertie sat in the library with Edith all afternoon, reading up on Brancaster's history whilst she pieced together a basic timeline of the Viking invasion and subsequent Danelaw rule. Bertie was impressed she could remember the order all the pieces of paper went in, especially whilst singing along to 'I Fought the Law' by The Clash. Edith never failed to surprise, it seemed.

Their days continued on like this for a few weeks - occasionally watching the sunrise, but breakfast together before Edith went to the library to work and Bertie went to his office to do something boring and estate-related. Afternoons were spent half working and half doing astonishingly bad karaoke in the library with Edith whilst she added more and more to her timeline each day. What did Bertie do more of each day?

He fell more and more in love with Edith each day.

The moment he'd realised he was in love with her wasn't her finest moment. She was belting out 'Milord' by Edith Piaf in an awful French accent. She had completely lost herself, using a water bottle as a microphone, she stood on the coffee table giving it her all, and he was lost. That was it. He was in love with Edith Crawley and he would be until the end of his days.

Of course, Bertie had no idea that he'd completely charmed Edith too. From the moment he'd offered to carry one of her suitcases up the drive, she'd been completely smitten. Everything he'd done for her, from making her breakfast every morning to indulging her singalongs every afternoon, had made her fall more and more in love with him, and she thought it was time he knew.

She jumped off the table as Bertie applauded, and quickly found the song she was looking for. She got back on the table, and began to sing.

_Guess mine is not the first heart broken_

_My eyes are not the first to cry_

_I'm not the first to know_

_There's just no getting over you_

_You know I'm just a fool who's willing_

_To sit around and wait for you_

_But, baby, can't you see_

_There's nothing else for me to do?_

_I'm hopelessly devoted to you_

Bertie listened to her, and wondered whether she knew what she was doing to him. Did she know how in love with her he was and how much he wanted what she was singing to be true? Before he could ponder this question much more, Edith had jumped off the table and yanked him off the sofa, crashing her lips to his. It took Bertie a moment to realise what was happening, but once he did, he reciprocated, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. He could hardly believe it was happening. It was Edith who pulled away first.

"Bertie…" she whispered.

"Mhmm" Bertie replied, matching her volume.

"I'm in love with you" She said, her lips grazing his.

"Thank god. I'm in love with you too" Bertie replied, as he connected their lips again.

The next morning, Bertie found himself waking up in Edith's room, her head resting on his chest as she slept. He smiled down at her and realised he wanted to wake up next to her for the rest of his life.

Reader, he married her.


	2. not afraid of storms

"_I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship" - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott_

Edith laughed as Bertie tried and failed to reach one of the highest shelves in Brancaster's library. Edith and Bertie had only been together a few weeks, but they'd fallen into a routine like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bertie's clothes were slowly migrating over into Edith's room, and every morning they would be woken by the sun streaming in from the windows Edith loved so dearly. They'd eat their breakfast at the tiny table in the kitchen, before slowly making their way down to the library to do some work. Each day they'd explore a new corridor of the house - Bertie hardly knew the place so he figured he may as well explore with Edith. He'd go to his study to do estate work until lunchtime, whilst Edith worked on her book in the library. It was summer, and the sun was normally shining, so they'd have a little picnic on the lawn for lunch, before making their way back into the library to research Brancaster and sing along to Edith's music or the radio or the huge collection of records the previous Marquess, Peter, had left before he'd died. They'd make dinner and sit on the sofa in front of the TV eating it, before going for a walk around the grounds, or down another previously unexplored corridor, before falling asleep in each other's arms as the moon shone in through the windows of their bedroom. They were the height of domesticity and it suited Bertie perfectly.

It was all shattered, though, once Edith neared the end of her research.

"I have to go back, Bertie. My publisher is in York and I need to be close to them to meet with them. You understand, don't you?" Edith said one cloudy morning, her head resting on Bertie's chest. It was almost like the weather knew the mood in the castle was gloomy that morning.

"I do, but, well..it's just, I'll miss you, that's all" Bertie replied, sitting up slightly so he could lean over to kiss Edith gently.

"I'll email, I'll phone" Edith said, punctuating every spoken action with a kiss, "I'll even write". Bertie smiled at her, and wondered how he ever got so lucky. The past few weeks with Edith had been bliss, and he was heartbroken that they were coming to an end.

The day Edith left was a hard one for both of them. She'd packed up her things the night before. All her clothes were back in her suitcase, her books and papers relating to her book safely stored away. There was nothing around to show that Edith had ever been there. It was raining that day, just to add insult to injury. They'd both rushed out carrying suitcases, throwing them haphazardly into the boot of the taxi that had come to pick Edith up and take her to the train station. Then, Bertie realised he was going to have to say goodbye to Edith. He'd been dreading this moment.

"Call me when you're home, so I know you're safe" He said quietly, voice beginning to faltar. He could hardly look at her.

"I will, Bertie. I love you"

"I love you too, Edith" Bertie replied, a stray tear escaping from his eyes, "Please come back to Brancaster soon"

"Oh there's no risk of my not returning, Bertie. Goodbye for now, love" Edith said, leaning in to give Bertie one last kiss.

"Bye, darling" He whispered, as she got into the cab. As the car sped down the driveway and out of the gates, what remained of Bertie's resolve broke, and the tears began to fall freely. He found himself making his way to the library, the radio tuned to Edith's favourite channel. Suddenly, singing along to the songs playing had lost all its charm. Brancaster seemed to have lost its charm now Edith was no longer there.

Edith arrived home late that evening. She and her sister Mary were staying with their parents in Downton village, their childhood home. After the breakup of Edith's last relationship, with her old publisher Mike Gregson, she'd moved away from London. She'd needed a break from the hustle and bustle and needed the quiet of Yorkshire once again. The quiet was soon ruined by her sister moving back, after the death of her husband Matthew in a car crash. The sisters had never been the best of friends, especially now the mediation of youngest sister Sybil was no longer there. Edith was greeted by her parents as she walked through the door, her suitcases piled up by a dresser in the hall. Edith's parents, Robert and Cora, had always supported their middle daughter's career in academia. Mary had her own pursuits as a model, so Edith's career as a historian made sure at least one daughter would have something they could be proud of. Edith had been the awkward ugly duckling of a middle sister. She couldn't even get her dolls to do what she wanted, let alone anybody else. Finding somebody like Bertie, after her previous failed romantic liaisons which went from horrific one night stands to a jilting at the altar, well, Bertie seemed like a miracle to Edith.

Edith collapsed down on the sofa, enjoying the peace and quiet of home, as her mother thrust a hot chocolate into her hands. Before even a syllable could come from Edith, Robert, or Cora, the front door burst open again. Mary waltzed in, a little worse for wear, dragging an equally sozzled Harry Talbot, her new boyfriend, behind her. Harry was a racing driver, who'd had a few successful seasons in the junior formulas before making his way over to endurance racing. He liked to party. He was used to the glamour of Mayfair and Monaco. Downton wasn't really his style, but he and Mary seemed to have drunk the local pub, The Abbey Arms, dry.

"You should have seen Carson's face" Mr and Mrs Carson being the landlord and landlady "You should have seen their faces when I ordered my seventh gin and tonic!" Mary slurred as she dragged Harry up the stairs. She turned around briefly to catch a glimpse of Edith sat in the sitting room.

"Oh look, she's back!" She called as she tripped over the top step, practically falling into her bedroom. Edith rolled her eyes as she heard the door slam, followed by stumbling and giggling from her older sister's room.

"How was it, dear?" Cora asked as the noise from upstairs seemed to cease.

"It was wonderful, I got a lot done, and…" Edith started, faltering towards the end. Did she want to tell her parents about her new boyfriend straight away?

"And what?" Robert asked, giving his daughter a knowing look. Edith sighed.

"Bertie, who I stayed with" She said, looking down into her mug, "Well, um. We rather fell in love with each other, I suppose". Edith looked up just in time to see her parents' jaws drop.

"Oh Edith, darling, that's wonderful. Tell us all about him" Cora replied quickly, wanting to know everything about her unlucky daughter's new beau. Edith told them nearly everything, leaving out the part about Bertie being a Marquess. They seemed to approve. Edith went to bed feeling somewhat renewed. She felt like her parents saw her in a new light, for once. She wanted them to meet Bertie. If they met him, she was sure they would be just as enchanted as her.

The next morning, a bright eyed Edith found her peaceful breakfast being interrupted by her horrifically hungover older sister. Mary slumped in a seat at the kitchen table, Harry not far behind her. Edith carried on eating her cereal and texting Bertie.

"Can you turn the keyboard sounds off on your phone, for god's sake Edith, it's so loud" Harry murmured as he dropped an alka-seltzer into a glass of water.

"Who are you texting anyway?" Mary asked, wondering how on earth Edith had somebody to talk to this early in the morning.

"My boyfriend" Edith replied quickly as she ate the last of her cereal. She put her bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, and left the room without another word. She never turned around to see Mary and Harry make very confused faces at each other.

Edith worked in peace in the study, overlooking the road, for most of the morning. She and Bertie were chatting back and forth, hoping that constant conversation would help them through the unknown length of time they were to spend apart. It wasn't until mid-morning when somebody interrupted her peace.

"Come in" She called as somebody knocked on the door. She turned around just in time to see her brother-in-law, Tom, walk into the room. Since Sybil's death, her widow Tom had become even closer with Edith and Mary. They were his remaining links with her, and he didn't want to lose them, because that would mean losing Sybil permanently, forever.

"Hello Tom, how have you been?" Edith asked as he pulled up a chair on the other side of the desk.

"Not as well as you, apparently" Tom replied, handing her a pastry from the bakery in the village "Mary tells me you have a boyfriend"

"I do" Edith replied, taking the pastry from him and placing it on the saucer of her teacup, "Bertie Pelham, who I stayed with in Northumberland"

Tom smiled. After being jilted at the altar by Tony Strallan, and a disastrous relationship with the aforementioned former publisher Gregson, Tom wanted nothing more than to see Edith happy.

"Congratulations, I hope he's treating you well"

"He is" Edith replied "Mary doesn't know anything about him, so please don't tell her. She doesn't even know his name. I want to enjoy it a little bit longer before she inevitably ruins it"

"I think you're being a bit harsh on her, you know, but you have my word" Tom said as he stood up and put the chair back where it belonged. He smiled at Edith and left the room, almost finding it strange to see Edith so happy.

The first few weeks after her return to Downton were a frenzy of publishers meetings in York and hours upon hours spent editing in the study. Her parents would bring her trays of food and endless cups of tea as she worked hard to reach her deadline. When said deadline approached, and the final manuscript was sent off to the publishers, it hit Edith. She missed Bertie. A lot. It was a physical ache inside her, a pain in her chest telling her he wasn't there with her. They'd been talking on the phone a lot, and texting each other constantly until the pressure was really on, but it wasn't quite the same.

After the manuscript was handed in, it didn't take a genius to see that Edith's mood had gone south. Now she was thinking about her next book or project, she had more time to miss Bertie. She'd never missed somebody this much before. She supposed this must be what it feels like when you miss the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. She'd never felt like this with Tony, who she'd only agreed to marry because she was young and thought she'd never find true love, or Mike, who had been an exciting prospect at first, but had turned sour when they both realised mixing personal and professional wasn't always the best plan.

She tried to busy herself with research in the local library, extensive sessions searching journal articles and books, shut in the study, ignoring everything from the outside world except her work and Bertie. When she stopped working, which was only to eat, shower, or sleep, Bertie was all she could think about. She dreamt about him at night, about them at Brancaster, living happily ever after. One night, she even dreamt of Bertie carrying her over the threshold as his wife. She'd woken up crying that morning. Her brain and heart could hardly cope with how much she missed him. She guessed she felt like Jane Eyre did when Mr Rochester told her she was to move to Ireland. Everybody could see it. Tom could see it. Robert could see it. Cora could see it. Even Mary and Harry could see it. Edith was miserable, and it was bringing the whole house down.

Tom decided he should be the one to intervene. He found Edith in the study early one morning, and he had a plan. He walked in, and found her with her head on the desk, sobbing. He rushed over and put an arm around her.

"Edith, love, what's wrong?" He asked, his Irish lilt peeking through. Edith looked up and smiled weakly.

"Bertie sent me a photo of the sunrise at Brancaster. My first morning there we watched the sunrise from the patio" She replied weakly, showing Tom the photo. She hadn't mentioned to any of them that Brancaster was a castle, and Tom, though surprised, didn't say a word. He clearly needed to get his plan into action, and fast.

"Edith, go to Brancaster. Go and see Bertie" He said, matter of factly. Edith sat up.

"I'd love to, but-" She started.

"But what, Edith? You said you love him, and he loves you. He'll be delighted to see you" Tom interrupted. He looked at Edith mock-sternly, trying to make her laugh. After a few seconds she broke, hugging him quickly. She ran out of the room and up the stairs to pack a suitcase. Tom smiled to himself as he made his way to the kitchen, where the rest of the family was wondering what the hell was going on.

"She's going to see Bertie" he explained.

"It's about time" Mary replied, "I couldn't deal with much more of her being miserable"

Edith drove as fast as she could to Brancaster. The gates were open, much to her relief, and as the castle came into view, she felt like she was home. She felt like she belonged there. She parked her car next to Bertie's. She let out a sigh of relief that he was there. She walked up to the ancient wooden front door, and rang the doorbell. She heard a few doors crashing about inside, before the door opened.

Bertie couldn't believe it. What was Edith doing on his doorstep? He was delighted, of course, but his brain could hardly compute the scene in front of him.

"I, well, I missed you so I thought I'd come and see you" Edith half said, half asked. Bertie didn't say a word, he simply pulled Edith close and crashed their lips together. All their longing was poured into that kiss.

"God I missed you" Bertie muttered in between kisses. Edith smiled as she pulled back.

"Put the kettle on whilst I get my suitcase?"

"Your wish is my command, darling" Bertie replied as he practically ran up the stairs. Edith followed behind him, walking through the halls like she'd lived there her whole life. It felt right for her to be there. She looked around as she walked into the kitchen, where Bertie was adding milk to the tea. She sighed contentedly.

"What?" Bertie asked, as he handed her what had become her mug.

"Nothing. Just feels like home, that's all" Edith replied, sitting on the sofa with her feet tucked under her, just like that first day all those months ago.

"It...it could be your home" Bertie said tentatively, "if you wanted it to be". Edith's face broke into the widest smile she could muster. Bertie took that as a yes, and leant down to kiss her, being careful not to spill the tea.

The next morning, Edith woke to the sun pouring in through the windows she loved. Bertie was by her side (snoring, but still) and she'd never been happier.

Reader, she married him.


End file.
